


If You Ask Me I'm Ready

by Lamport



Series: Home Universe [3]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alexandria AU, F/M, Home Universe, Post Series, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 09:49:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4662192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lamport/pseuds/Lamport
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carol can't remember a more perfect day.  A hot day, a bike ride, and a wedding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Ask Me I'm Ready

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Fluff-a-Palooza challenge. This is set in the same universe as Home and Heyday in the Blood - though you don't have to have read them to understand this one. 
> 
> The title comes from the song "Unthinkable" by Alicia Keys. I recommend the City + Colour cover as a possible soundtrack for your reading pleasure.

Carol couldn’t remember a more perfect day – even before. 

She had the day off and woke to the sight of Daryl’s sleepy blue eyes peering at her through a mess of hair. She rolled towards him and they greeted the day with the slow rhythmic slide of their bodies, finishing before the sun had fully risen and the heat made them seek cooler spaces downstairs.

They dressed in separate corners of the room, made the bed, and had their customary cup of tea before they went to the Rhee house to check on Maggie and the baby. Hershal was a sweet little thing, though “little” was more of an endearment than anything. There wasn’t much little about him (his eyes, his belly, his voice - they were all big). Daryl’s brows had furrowed in disbelief when the baby was passed to him, squawking loudly (“You feedin this kid rocks?”). 

Their visit complete, she headed to the communal kitchen to pack a lunch while Daryl gassed up the bike. He goaded her into driving when they met up at the gate. Before she knew it they were out on the open road with nothing but each other and a clear blue sky overhead, green fields and forest below. 

They spent some time at a creek, lazing in the shade on the bank while they ate warm sandwiches. It was so peaceful just to sit in the quiet listening to the sound of the moving water and the croaking of tiny frogs. Daryl chewed on a long piece of grass and the sight of it made her giggle so much he raised an eyebrow at her before he picked her up and threw them both in the water, clothes and all.

She splashed him in indignation, but what little annoyance she felt dissipated the instant she realized how heavenly it was to let her body drift in the cool current. He lent her a hand when they crawled their way back onto the shore, covered in gooseflesh with sodden denim clinging to their legs. Her giggles returned when he slyly suggested they take their clothes off to dry in the sun (“What?” he huffed, but his lips quirked into a smile, “They gotta dry unless you wanna ride back like this.”).

Not surprisingly, getting naked had lead to other things. Even now, on the ride back, with his warm arms encircling her from behind, she can feel the telltale heat from the sunburn she’s sure she’s sporting on her ass and a bruise from a pebble that dug into her shoulder. It was well worth it.

The sun is setting in front of them, painting the sky in purple, orange and red. It’s a relief to feel the heat of the day begin to fade. 

Daryl is touching her more than usual this trip. She can feel his scruff against the back of her neck as he presses a kiss to her shoulder. His thighs clamp tightly around her hips, and his hands move from around her waist to rub circles on her lower back. She’s just about to elbow him in the ribs and make some quip about distracting the driver when she feels him shift his mouth closer to her ear. He shouts over the sound of the motor and the wind rushing around them.

“You wanna get married?” 

She thinks she’s misheard him at first, but she’s not imagining the slight tremor in his hands where they’ve faltered on her back. He’s serious.

“What?” she yells back, nearly spilling them off the bike when she forgets to lean into a turn.

“Marry me,” he shouts again, a hint of giddiness in his voice that makes her heart beat a little faster.

She slows the bike to a crawl, before putting her feet down to balance, like he taught her. The engine idles loudly under them, vibrating against her legs when she twists to get a look at him over her shoulder. His face is flushed, but his eyes, full of hope and love, never waiver from hers. Her mouth drops open.

“Okay,” she hears herself say, dumbly.

And it doesn’t matter that she never thought she’d want to get married again, because she wants to now. She wants it more than anything.

“Okay?” he asks again, making sure.

“Yes,” she says with a smile that crinkles the sunburn on her nose. His hands come up to her face, and he kisses her. The bike starts to tilt sideways and they break away from each other long enough to put down the kick stand and turn it off.

They climb off the leather seat together and she finds herself at the mercy of an incredible bear hug that lifts her clear off the asphalt. She can’t stop laughing for joy, and he’s laughing too.

“Let’s do it,” he says urgently when he puts her down.

Her head reels. A wedding. Their wedding. She’ll need to talk to Michonne, see about planning a time that won’t interfere too much with the security detail or her shifts at the infirmary. The thought of a white dress seems ridiculous – maybe that sundress Rosita gave her last week? And what about a ceremony? Who would marry them? She didn’t want anything to do with the church. Would Daryl want a big fuss in front of all of Alexandria?

She’s still running through a laundry list of considerations in her head when Daryl grips her hand tightly and leads them into a field at the side of the road. His stride is purposeful. He barely looks back at her, just scans the area until he finds what he’s looking for. He grunts his approval and walks a few more feet before turning to face her. They’ve come to stop in a patch of wildflowers; red devil’s paintbrush, white daisies, yellow buttercups and purple clover. Their colours are vibrant and beautiful.

“This okay?” he asks.

“It’s beautiful,” she says, “but why are we here?”

“Seems like a good place to get hitched.”

And then she gets it. When he said he wanted to get married, he meant right now. And the simple honesty of his impulse, the urgency of his need to be joined with her, make her eyes well up.

“Yeah,” she says, trying to breathe through the catch in her throat, “It’s perfect.”

He stoops down with his knife and cuts some flowers, handing them to her in a make-shift bouquet that’s more elegant than a dozen roses. She thinks back to a wild white rose in a beer bottle and shakes her head a little at how far they’ve come.

She pulls a daisy out of the bunch and tucks the stem in his shirt pocket next to his lighter. The fading light beside them makes his face glow and his eyes sparkle. He makes a handsome groom.

He falters then, looks at her sheepishly like he’s not sure what comes next. She takes his hand in hers.

“Daryl, do you take me as your wife?”

The word “wife” sounds strange and exhilarating to them both. She can feel his pulse speed up through his fingers. His palm is sweaty, but his grip never loosens.

“I do.”

He lets out a shaky breath and grins. She raises an eyebrow at him, expectantly.

“Oh, right,” he mumbles.

“Carol, do you take me as your husband?” His voice is barely above a whisper, like if he says it any louder she’ll change her mind - be frightened away.

“I do.”

“You sure?”

“Yes!” she says with a laugh.

“Thank fuck for that,” he says, tugging her closer until they’re kissing again, crushing flowers between them.

She pulls back, breathless.

“Wait. Shouldn’t we say a vow or something?”

He nods his head and takes her hand again, back to business.

“I love you, and I ain’t ever gonna stop so long as there’s breath in my body. I wanna take care of you, make you happy, make you laugh,” he pauses when he sees the tears spilling from her eyes, “I said laugh not cry!”

She shakes her head, and smiles. The sun is sinking lower, casting his face in shadow. The outline of his shaggy head is dark against the orange sky. 

“I promise I’ll keep tryin, everyday, for you,” he finishes, voice turning hoarse.

She lets out a shaky sigh. It’s her turn.

“I love you – so much. I never thought…” she trails off, but this isn’t the time to dwell on the past. “I want to be your family, make you see what a good man you are. You’re the most – “ but her throat closes before she can get the words out. His thumb strokes her knuckle where their hands are joined, and he waits.

“I want to take care of you too. Make you happy. Have as many days like today as we can. I promise I’ll keep trying.”

They come together then, holding on to each other for dear life. She can feel his chapped lips against her forehead, ears and throat. He sniffs loudly, barking out a short laugh.

“Let’s go home,” he says, putting an arm around her shoulder and steering them back towards the bike.

He drives them back in the semi-darkness, the road dark but for the weak beam of the headlight. She turns her head to rest her cheek on the warm leather of his vest, right between the wings, and closes her eyes.

When they finally make it through the gates the sun is long gone and a few stars reveal themselves. They walk together, hand in hand, a secret smile playing on their lips. Tara and Sasha are the first to see them, and wave in greeting on their way to the night shift.

“Wow, Daryl. Nice! Brings out your eyes,” Tara teases, gesturing to the daisy still poking out of his pocket.

He glances down at it, like he’d forgotten it was there, before plucking it from his shirt.

“Leftover from the wedding,” he says, tossing it at her. She catches it instinctively, barely registering what he’s said.

“What wedding?” Sasha asks.

Carol smiles, “Congratulations, Tara. You’re next.”

They keep walking towards their house, cackling like a pair of fools.

“Wait a minute,” Tara yells after them, bewildered, “Did you guys get married?” 

But by that time they were out of earshot, too caught up in each other to notice anything else.


End file.
